


Zerodin Week Prompts

by dorkpatroller



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: M/M, Zerodin Week, each fic will be tagged in its notes i guess, fair warning, one of them will have sexytimes, prompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-18
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-20 09:24:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10659660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dorkpatroller/pseuds/dorkpatroller
Summary: My collection of prompts from Zerodin Week 2017! :)





	1. Stardust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter tags: modern au, some drinking, lots of fluff, some cheesy dialogue.

Odin is something else entirely when he’s had a little too much to drink. Not totally wasted, because that’s boring. Once Odin drinks that much he turns into a clingy, sleepy monster and finds the nearest place to sleep. Not when he is just a bit tipsy, and all his wits are still about him because then he sobers up too quickly.

 

When Odin has crossed the line from tipsy into sort of drunk and then beyond that into _definitely_ drunk… that is when he is the most fun. That is the Odin that forgets himself and his worries and forces Niles to do the same.

 

This time Odin takes Niles by the hand and drags him out of the bar. Immediately they’re met with the city lights of Nohr. The buildings are so tall they blot out the sky and the air smells stale and dingy. Odin pulls him along by their hands and weaves through the streets of the city. He ducks into alleyways and he stumbles while he walks, while he jogs, until they’re running.

 

Together, running away into the night. Niles’s heart starts thundering against his ribs and he feels a combination of elation and something like nausea. The city lights are bleary and they’re getting farther and farther away. Niles pulls back on Odin’s hand. He’s not sure Odin has any idea where he’s going but _home_ is the other way. Odin stops running.

 

He hesitates there. He looks at Niles and he has this damn, stupid grin on his face. He’s panting and sweating and smiling. “Almost there.” He promises between breaths. He runs again, this time his hand slipping out of Niles’s.

 

He runs ahead.

 

Niles could go home. He’s drunk and he’s tired and he has work in the morning. Odin can have his adventure alone. There’s nothing stopping him from it. He’s not so drunk he’ll get himself killed. Or Niles could follow him.

 

So, he does.

 

Niles jogs two steps and then sprints. He chases after Odin and they are running away from the city, away from the tall buildings and away from the neon lights. Niles runs until he catches up with Odin and he makes a grab for his hand. It takes two tries, but once he clasps their hands together Odin turns and grins at him.

 

They make it to a beach. The sand is white like a layer of snow over the ground. It’s fine and soft and almost cold beneath their toes. Niles watches Odin stumble out of his shoes and bend at the waist to roll his jeans up to his knees. “It’s too cold to get in the water, idiot,” Niles calls.

 

Odin flashes him a grin over his shoulder. “I wasn’t planning to.” Niles jogs a few steps to catch up with him. Odin’s footprints left in the sand are lonely until Niles’s are there beside his. Then they leave a trail together.

 

It’s almost romantic, except that the path is curved and jagged where Odin stumbles in his drunkenness here or there and there. It’s almost romantic until Odin falls for real, that is. He trips over the sand or a rock or his own feet but he pulls Niles down with him and they tumble. Both of them land in the sand and its _everywhere_. In his hair, in his clothes, tiny grains of fine, white sand are over Niles. He lands on top of Odin but his breath is knocked out of him when he’s forced to his back. Odin pins him to the sand and sits on his hips and he grins down at him.

 

Moonlight bathes over Odin’s skin and he glows in it. The sand is like glitter in his hair, on his arms. He doesn’t look dirty; he just looks _radiant_. He reaches out and touches Niles’s cheek. Niles only flinches a little bit. Odin looks apologetic for half a second, but after that his eyes lid partway. “It looks like stardust,” He says.

 

The sand, on Niles too. Lit up bright by the moonlight bouncing off it, he supposes that’s true. His eye slides shut and he smiles something small. He nods his head. “Yes, you do.”

 

He peeks at Odin and sure enough, he has a dark blush sitting on the apples of his cheeks, now. A small success, but it’s one Niles takes pride in. “When are you going to go out with me?” Odin asks. He leans down close enough to kiss if Niles wanted to. Their noses bump and Niles blinks quickly before sand can fall from Odin’s hair into his eyes.

 

Odin is funny. He’s energetic and exciting and he knows what he wants in life. He wants to be remembered. Niles is none of those things, not really. He’s unsure of everything. The only thing he knows is that he always seems to be one step shy of good enough. He hums and opens his eye once more, to consider Odin’s. He looks mad.

 

He’s not mad. He’s pouting. “Maybe,” Niles begins. He draws his fingers through the sand at his sides. Niles doesn’t date Odin because they’re friends. He’s never had many of those. He’s never had one he cared for quite like this. He doesn’t feel weird when Odin holds his hands. He’s not afraid when Odin touches his face. He’s not afraid when he pins him to the ground. Niles wouldn’t let anyone else do this to him.  “Someday.”

 

“Someday _when_?” Odin asks. He lets his lips come down to touch Niles’s cheek, but instead of kissing him there he talks into his skin. “You’re the moon and the stars, you can light up my darkness.”

 

Niles snorts. “You’re quite the poet when you’re drunk.” He lifts his hand from the sand and runs it down Odin’s thigh. His jeans are absolutely covered in grit. He drags his thumb through it. “I wouldn’t want to take advantage of my best friend in such a vulnerable state.”

 

“I’m not that drunk,” Odin says. He brushes his nose against Niles’s, holds his lips close to his and closes his eyes almost all the way. “I would ask you for the same thing if I was entirely sober.”

 

Niles knows he would. He has, before. He can feel Odin’s breath on his lips. It would be easy to kiss him now. He leans forward until their lips almost brush but… he retreats instead and lays his head back in the sand. Odin whimpers out a noise so pathetic Niles’s heart clenches a little. “What happens when you get bored of dating me, Odin? I don’t take well to being left behind.”

 

“I don’t think you understand how I feel about you if you think I would ever, _ever_ hurt you like that.”

 

Niles can feel the conviction in that statement. Yes, Odin is very serious. Niles has wanted to give in to temptation for months. Odin asks again. “Go out with me.”

 

Niles leans up again, and their lips touch. It’s startling. He pulls back a moment, but Odin has none of it. He pushes forward and presses a hard kiss on Niles’s lips. Niles, in turn, lifts his hand up to slide through Odin’s hair, knocking some of the sand out of it.

 

Odin has called himself Odin Dark for as long as Niles has known him. He thinks it’s cool or something. Niles isn’t sure that he’s cut out to be the stars that light up that darkness… but somewhere in his memory, he recalls once hearing that humans are composed of 93% stardust. Perhaps that makes him worthy of trying.

 


	2. Names

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter tags: modern au, high school au, don't trust niles with anything important,

“You have to be careful with him,” Owain says while he deposits the bundle into Niles’s arms. He treats it like it’s so fragile. There it is, wrapped up in a thin receiving blanket (gods only know where Owain even _found_ one of those) and with a diaper. A diaper!

 

“I’m being careful. What if I wanted a girl?” Niles asks. He lets the flour sack lay in his arms like a baby for exactly half of a second, and then he shifts it so he’s holding it tucked under his arm. “Why do you get to pick?”

 

“Because I’m the one who got stuck being the ‘mom’,” Owain mutters. The class had an odd number of girls versus boys. Niles and Owain are friends, so the teacher asked if they would mind being married for the duration of the flour sack baby event.

 

Owain wants a divorce… and full custody of their flour sack baby. Niles doesn’t treat it right! “If Mrs. Sumia sees you holding him like that she’s going to mark us down for ‘negligence’.”

 

“You can’t neglect a bag of flour.” Niles argues, “This is stupid, anyway. You can basically cheat the whole assignment. No one is going to know if you _actually_ pretend to feed your flour every four hours.”

 

“Well, you’re not _wrong_ but pretend to feed him anyway. And change his diaper. And _don’t_ actually let him get wet, alright?”

 

“It’s a bag of flour,” Niles repeats. Owain groans and pushes a hand through his hair.

 

“Alright! I took care of Blake all week, okay? You just have to keep him this weekend while I write our report and if you can bring him back on Monday unscathed we’ll get an A. Or at least an A minus.”

 

“Blake?”

 

“It’s his name,” Owain says, matter-of-factly. “Remember? We named him in class the first day.”

 

Niles shakes his head. “I distinctly remember refusing to name a sack of flour.”

 

“So his name is Blake,” Owain continues, purposefully ignoring Niles. “This backpack is his ‘carrier’. You’re allowed to put him in it but you have to wear it backwards like a baby carrier and he has to have a blanket if he’s in the carrier, it’s in the rules.”

 

“That’s stupid.”

 

“It’s _one day_. I’ve done this _all week!_ ” Owain thinks he might be pleading now. He certainly knows Niles is being difficult on purpose. “Just hold him really careful. He’s reinforced with tape so he’ll be harder to break, and with the blankets, you shouldn’t have to worry. Um, he is allowed to nap through all your other classes except, you know, home ec. Oh! And gym. When you go to gym you’re supposed to drop him off with Ms. Sully’s teacher’s aid. She is the ‘babysitter’. You have to sign Blake in and out, okay?”

 

“That’s also stupid,” Niles mutters. He reaches out for the bag. “You aren’t the slightest bit embarrassed to carry around a flour sack in a backwards backpack, all day?”

 

“No! Why should I be? A lot of students are right now anyway, and it’s good practice for when I have kids, someday!”

 

“Mm, yes, I suppose your kids _would_ be imaginary.” Niles grins. Owain frowns. Or maybe pouts. Either way, he shrugs.

 

“No one is going to make fun of you. Just keep Blake safe until home ec, I’ll help you deal with him then, and take him home after that. Then I don’t care if you set him on a shelf for 2 days, as long as you don’t bake him into cookies or something we’ll be fine.”

 

…

 

It’s not like Niles means to be spiteful. He just thinks a flour sack is the least rational way to teach teenagers what a baby is like. A flour sack is calm and quiet and sits in one spot. Babies are rowdy, loud, poop machines that scream and cry. If they’re going to make students do this fake baby thing, they should at least get those robotic babies… right?

 

Of course, his home is no place for a flour sack baby to roam around freely. What if a cat knocked it over? Niles keeps it in its backpack, on his bed, and he opens his real backpack to work on homework that actually matters.

 

That’s when he realizes he’s actually gone crazy. Some time after being stuck on the same algebra question for an hour, he glances at the flour sack and asks, “What did you get for ‘x’?”

 

Blake, of course, is a sack of flour. He doesn’t answer. And even if he was a real baby he wouldn’t answer. Niles rolls his eyes. “I wanted a girl,” He mutters at it. “And _Blake_ is a stupid name for a flour baby.”

 

…

 

Monday morning rolls around as it always does. Niles is up a little early. He wants to swing by someplace for coffee to chase away how annoying today is going to be. Apparently, Owain has everything figured out, but for their fake divorce and their fake custody agreement, Niles needs to sign some documents.

 

Whatever.

 

He grabs the backpack containing the flour sack by only one of the straps and makes to fling it onto his shoulder. The flour sack falls out, and onto the ground. For a whole five seconds, Niles’s heart stops. Owain will kill him if he murders their stupid flour baby. He really did work hard on this project. Niles probably wouldn’t be getting the good grade without him.

 

But he’s fine! Niles breathes out relief and leans down to pick it up. “That was almost bad, wasn’t it, Blake?” He jokes at himself. He grabs both sides of the sack. It’s upside down on the floor, and he pulls it up ‘diaper first’.

 

The entire contents of the sack of flour pour out onto his bedroom floor.

 

“Oh shit.”

 

…

 

They share home ec, of course. That’s their last class of the day. Niles and Owain also share homeroom, where they meet before school. Niles almost misses homeroom entirely, because he has to make an impromptu trip to the supermarket.

 

Owain is kind of panicking about it. When Niles walks in the door late (with coffee, but he doesn’t imagine that’s _why_ he was late) Owain takes a deep sigh of relief. He’s got the backpack on his chest, a blanket wrapped up around the flour sack…

 

Niles sits beside him and passes him the whole backpack. “Take it, it’s yours.”

 

Owain nods his head and, once the backpack is situated in his lap, he pushes a folder towards Niles. “There’s like four pages you need to sign. Two for our divorce, one for the custody arrangement—You can have him every other weekend—and one is your agreement to child support.”

 

“What? Who said I want to pay child support? He might not even be mine. I want a paternity test.” Niles scoffs. Not really. He just wants to sign the papers and be done with this stupid thing.

 

Owain starts fiddling with the bag. “I’ve got custody so you’ve got to pay. I don’t make the rules, it’s what’s best for… what is this?”

 

“What is what?” Niles asks, innocently enough.

 

“Um, this flour. This—This isn’t Blake. What…” Owain turns and narrows his eyes at Niles. “ _What did you do?”_

 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. You asked me to take care of the flour sack and I did. There he is, safe and sound.”

 

“This isn’t my baby,” Owain argues in a hiss. “This isn’t even—This is the _store brand_ —Niles what _happened_ to Blake?!”

 

“That is Blake. You’re hallucinating.” Niles scoffs. He puts his head in his hand on the desk and tries not to grin too much.

 

Owain unwraps the baby entirely. There’s no diaper, no tape to reinforce the bottom, and if that wasn’t enough… “ _Niles!_ This is _wheat_ flour!”

 

Niles snorts and begins to laugh. “Shut up, is it really?” He asks, and he leans over to check. “Oh, man. Maybe the teacher won’t notice.”

 

“God! You’re a horrible dad!” But Owain starts to laugh, too, and he leans back in his chair. “Maybe you can’t have him on weekends after all.”

 

…

 

“Be careful with her,” Owain whispers to his _real_ husband, several years later. She’s asleep. Brand new, a chubby little girl they’ve been waiting on since the surrogate’s test came back positive. She looks very much like Niles, there’s no arguing which one of them is biologically her father, but it doesn’t matter. Owain got to hold her first, and love her first, and she is absolutely his baby girl. Which is why he’s hesitant to let her go at all, but… Well, it’s only fair.

 

Niles holds her close to his chest and with her little head supported by the crook of his elbow and Owain knows he’s not going to drop her. He knows that he loves her too much, too. They’ve been waiting for her for so long, been waiting years to have a child of their own. She stirs a little bit, then falls back asleep into his chest.

 

“I’ll be careful,” Niles says... if only to humor Owain. He brushes the pad of his thumb along her chubby cheek. He takes her in. She’s absolutely beautiful. “I always wanted a little girl.”


	3. Exalted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS THE PORNY ONE U WERE WARNED
> 
> its also a day late oops the quality suffered i'm so sorry
> 
> chapter tags um porn, with fluff, mild body worship, biting, bjs, all that good stuff.

It’s early morning and the sunlight is beginning to filter through the tent. Odin’s tent, though Niles is sharing his bedroll. Niles is the one who sneaks to visit Odin, and rarely the other way around. As it turns out, when they are not at the castle where their private quarters are only a few doors apart, Odin is not quite the master of stealth he may claim to be.

 

Niles cuddles in his sleep. It’s something he’s always done and Odin doesn’t taunt him for it because he does the same thing. Sometimes, when people are asleep, their emotions are put on display. Niles sleeps on his side facing Odin, and with one of his thighs tucked between Odin’s. His arm is less draped over him than it is clinging to him.

 

He clings. Odin doesn’t mind.

 

Niles is also much harder to rouse from sleep. Odin is a man who wakes with the sun and stays awake from the moment his eyes crack open. Although Niles is strict about rising on time for his duties, when given the chance he prefers the extra few minutes of sleep.

 

The way Nile’s hair is messy from sleep only adds to the innocent way he looks like this. He’s usually calm, collected, _cool_. He’s the coolest person Odin knows, which is saying a lot because he once thought himself to be the coolest. He sleeps with the patch still over his eye. He’s never removed it in front of Odin and Odin doesn’t think he’d ever ask him to. He’s seen a bit of it anyway. Sometimes when he sleeps it slips here or there. Underneath his skin is scarred and the rest is… well, Odin doesn’t mind. He’s seen worse things in his life. For how deeply he love Niles, he could be marred far beyond that and still deserve to be exalted.

 

Odin squeezes Niles a little tighter in their sleepy embrace. He startles but then relaxes again. The sun must bother him because he pushes his face forward into the crook of Odin’s neck. _Not yet_ , Odin can almost hear his voice say it. Niles doesn’t speak up, though. He’s too invested in trying to salvage his sleep. That’s alright. Odin doesn’t strike up a conversation.

 

Niles is beautiful here. The misty sunlight does him a great favor, makes him look warm and soft. In protest of that very same sunlight, Niles rolls onto his belly and pulls the blanket over his head.

 

He was almost asking Odin to do it. He’s quite nude beneath that blanket. Odin is still on his side facing him, but now Niles is all but asking to be touched. So Odin touches. He starts by trailing his fingertips down Niles’s spine, drawing patterns so soft they are just shy of tickling.

 

Sure enough, his hand cannot be stayed, and with every circle it moves a hair lower until his palm glides over the globe of his ass. Niles makes a tiny noise. Not really a noise of protest, just some form of acknowledgment. Odin assumes that means “continue.”

 

He slips beneath the blankets entirely and moves his lips to the base of Niles’s spine. He kisses there, warm and almost a little wet. Then he kisses over a few scars. A long, white scar that Odin doesn’t know the story behind. Near his shoulder blade, there is a lightning scar from a spell. Not one of Odin’s of course, but Odin was there to witness when it happened. He kisses the center of his back. He trails close to his side, and Niles twitches a little where he is just the slightest bit ticklish. Odin doesn’t linger. Niles doesn’t much prefer to be tickled, anyway. With every warm kiss drawn across his skin, Odin can feel Niles relaxing under him. Odin is pretty confident he’s awake, that he couldn’t chase away the morning even with the blanket tented over them. Especially not with Odin causing mischief.

 

It is when Odin’s kisses reach the softest bit of Niles’s ass they turn into bites. Little nips and then a bit harder until Niles groans and Odin has left a reddish purple bruise. Niles lets out a breathy laugh and then turns to look over his shoulder at Odin. He looks tired, still, but he’s awake. His voice is still raspy with sleep and he says “May I help you, pet?”

 

No. He can’t. They don’t have enough time before they’ve got to get up. They’ll have to collapse their tent and prepare to continue traveling with their liege and there simply won’t be time for Niles to do _anything_ for Odin… especially if Odin does everything he intends to do for Niles. Not answering right away must raise some concern, because Niles shifts over onto his back. That is the opposite of a problem.

 

On his back, Niles is exposed and Odin flashes him a bright grin as he crawls over him. Is he surprised when Odin answers his question with a kiss? He seems to meet it easily enough. What is on his mind? Odin can imagine he’s thinking about if they have time for a quickie or not. A quickie would be tempting, but Odin doesn’t want to rush any of this today. He’s really got it in his head that he wants to make Niles feel _good_.

 

Sometimes Odin worries that Niles doesn’t think himself worthy of praise or pleasure and there have been a hundred times when Niles has hinted to that effect. It’s not fair. Odin pulls his lips away from Niles’s mouth and replaces them over his neck. Niles tilts his head for him, and Odin leaves little nips that won’t mark down and across the apple of his throat, down to his collarbone and then chest. The further down his chest he travels he leaves darker bites. Niles reacts in exactly the way Odin hopes he will. His skepticism dissolves into tiny gasps and occasional hums of pleasure.

 

Odin pushes his knee between Niles’s thighs and uses it to push them open a bit wider. Niles doesn’t argue, but there’s something tense there. Does he feel vulnerable? Odin would much prefer to see him relax. “I’ve seen stars burn in three worlds over, and none of them as radiant as you.”

 

Niles snorts. Odin’s smile grows wider. He shifts back so he is seated between Niles’s legs and Niles sits up on his elbows to regard him with… amusement? Curiosity? Perhaps both. Odin bends to kiss over Niles’s hips. He’s scarred there too, but the scars are light. Old. Odin has plenty of scars of his own. There is a scar on the back of his leg where a Risen tried to take a bite out of him as a teenager. That scar is also old and light… but still scary. Odin can’t bring himself to ask Niles about his scars because he doesn’t want to remind him of scary memories but… he can bring himself to kiss them all.

 

Of course, his kisses lead him to his groin. Niles is long hard there, and Odin could give him what he wants easily. Instead, he puts his nose into the bit of hair there and kisses at the very base of his length… but then he moves his mouth away again and to Niles’s thigh instead. Niles, as a result, groans. Probably in frustration more than in annoyance. “ _Odin_ ,”

 

Odin laughs. Not because he’s being mean, it’s just a tiny noise. Niles drops his elbows out from under himself and falls back onto his back. He blows his bangs out of his face with a puff of air. “Who taught you to be a tease?”

 

Odin shakes his head and bites hard into Niles’s thigh. Hard enough that he stops talking and draws in a breath like a hiss. He leaves a feather light kiss over the angry skin and moves on to the next spot to tease until finally, he shifts his position just slightly. He pushes Niles’s thigh’s open just a touch wider. He doesn’t need to… he just likes the view.

 

When their relationship began it began rapidly, but not startlingly so. Odin’s feelings developed quickly and eventually, he drew upon the courage to admit them and Niles… he began to share them. Love is scary and hard and Odin loves Niles so badly it hurts. Niles surely loves Odin too, but there are days when he stumbles over saying it.

 

That’s okay.

 

Niles always has accepted Odin with all of his faults, too. He taught him that faults can turn into virtues. When their relationship began Odin thought his inexperience might be a fault, but he learned easily enough. He learned easy and he learned exactly what his lover prefers the most.

 

So when Odin goes down on Niles he has learned a few of his habits. Niles likes to pull at his hair and Odin actually adores that. Niles is most sensitive at his tip but the underside is where he feels the best. Odin is sure to draw his tongue along it, even his teeth lightly here or there.

 

Niles is mysterious and seductive and collected but not right now. Right now he is very easy to read. He puts his hands both behind his head and grips at the bedroll beneath him and he bites his tongue so he won’t beg.

 

It would be _very fun_ to make him beg. Niles has done the same to Odin more than once. That isn’t the point of this, though. This is just Odin giving Niles everything he wants and more with no catches or strings.

 

His thighs start to come together and his body feels tense beneath Odin. He knows Niles is close and he has no intention of keeping it from him. He uses his hands to push Niles’s thighs back open again and he bobs and sucks until his jaw is sore and Niles’s tension breaks and he comes.

 

The moans melt away into silence. Niles still has his eyes shut, he’s catching his breath and that task no doubt becomes difficult when Odin playfully lays over him. Then Niles peeks his eye open.

 

“I trust you’ve had a good morning?” Odin asks. He clears his throat when it feels raspy. Niles snickers.

 

“Better than average.” He looks like he might say something else, too, but he has to stop when he hears a familiar sound. The sound of a wake up call for the army. Odin shifts like he might sit up but he doesn’t because Niles catches him with an arm around his neck and shoulder.

 

“This isn’t over,” Niles says. He pulls Odin closer and he thinks he’s going to whisper. Instead, he bites hard into Odin’s neck and sucks relentlessly where his collar won’t hide it. Odin sputters over his name, and Niles admires his work with a smirk. “Tonight I'm getting you back for this.”

 

Revenge has never sounded quite so sweet.


	4. Scars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter tags:
> 
> Sort of fairy tale au, more like historical au, owain is a prince, but there are no dragons or anything, think more like 1600s, some violence and blood mentions, a LITTLE ANGSTY but honestly a wad of cute.

Owain has been trapped his whole life. The walls around Castle Ylisstol are too tall to see much beyond them. The guards are well trained. The staff has been keeping an eye on him his since he was born. They say he’s an idiot and a runner and that he suffers from cabin fever. Owain prefers the term _wanderlust_. 

He wants to explore. He doesn’t like life in the castle. Every morning he gets up and he eats the same foods and drinks the same drinks and _learns the same things_. They teach him literature and politics and skills he will need one day when he is the Exalt.

Owain has overheard the staff talk about how he’s just like his mother, but he thinks that’s impossible. His mother is strict and serious and quiet. She is the present Exalt, and she is empathetic and kind but she is also… too reserved. They barely talk. Once, he heard a man say that they should just _“kill him.”_ They said that certainly worked on his mother, and it will work on him too.

Owain doesn't think they mean to kill him, he is the heir. Just their gossip raises alarm bells in his head. Was his mother like him, once? Who did they kill, that she became the reserved woman she is, now?

Owain sets his head in his hand and stares out the window. Seated at his desk, in the office attached to his room… he can see the gardens. There is a hedge maze built of rose bushes. There are fountains and bridges and beds of flowers. It’s very beautiful. Just beyond all of that, he can see the wall. Vines grow up it. Vines that Owain thinks are strong enough to hold a man. He’s sure if he could just climb up there he could lower a rope and…

“Mm, daydreaming again?”

Owain startles out of his thoughts and tilts his head to look at Niles. At first, he is just standing there, arms crossed over his chest, but then he takes a seat on the side of the desk. His clothes are not that different from Owain’s. They’re nice, although darker colors than Owain typically wears. The clothes that the future Exalt is expected to wear. Niles is not the Exalt, however. He’s not an heir at all.

He’s Owain’s best friend. They were introduced as children and raised side by side. Niles has the same education that Owain does... and the same confinement. They’re both trapped in this hell. Niles glances out the window, and Owain follows his gaze back to the vines on the wall.

“Ah, you’re thinking of leaving again.” He says. His tone sounds like he’s being playful, but Owain can see the way his lips draw into a flat line. He doesn’t approve. And why should he? If Owain attempts to leave he will no doubt get caught. He always does. And Niles… 

Once upon a time, Niles was a boy they found on the streets. He was homeless and starving, and so they brought him to the castle to befriend Owain. They became very close. As they grew, Owain didn’t truly understand what was happening. It wasn’t until he was almost ten years old that he knew exactly why Niles was plucked off the streets. It was when he learned what a _whipping boy_ was for. 

When Owain was ten years old he spoke out about how stupid he thought it all was. He shouted, he called them idiots and he attempted to leave the castle. He was irrational, he can admit it now. When he was caught he expected to be punished. A bishop approached with a switch in hand, and Owain winced at the very idea of it. The handle was thick and it had several branches coming off of it that would no doubt break the skin and leave scars. Just when he thought he was going to be whipped… they brought Niles into the room.

Owain will never forget it. He was eleven, only a year older. He had a black blindfold tied around his eyes. His hands were tied in front of him, and the rope that bound him was how they led him. Sometimes, when Owain closes his eyes, he can still remember the sound of little Niles shrieking at his first lashing.

The idea is simple. Owain is close with Niles, he doesn’t want to see Niles get hurt in his stead, and so he does not misbehave. Or, at least, that is the ideal. There have been bumps in that road. There have been days when Owain has gotten into trouble. There have been times when Owain has watched Niles face punishment. As a child, he was blindfolded. As they got older, he was not. Watching Niles brace himself, watching him flinch, watching him _watching Owain_ … that is worse than the blindfold.

Niles has a frown on his face and it is because he is thinking about that, no doubt. Owain is sure that Niles hates him. He must! He has been punished in so many ways, over the most _irrational_ crimes. Crimes that he did not even commit.

And then, there is the worst punishment he ever received. The last time Owain tried to leave. The _very last_ time. That was when Niles was beaten with a more traditional _whip_. The sort of whip Owain hardly likes to see used for oxen, let alone an innocent man. That was when he bit his lip so hard that it scarred. That was when his knees gave out, and when the bishop punishing him couldn’t stop the whip from striking his face, and…

And Niles is a very handsome man. Owain has always thought so. He doesn’t look like most Ylisseans. He looks like he hails from Regna Ferox, perhaps, but his hair is snowy white. His eyes are striking and blue. At least, the one is. His other eye was damaged beyond being salvaged. Owain doesn’t even have to close his eyes to hear the scream that ripped through Niles when that happened. All he has to do is look at the eyepatch over his eye. White, with a gold decoration in the center. He is still very handsome but Owain knows that he did that to him. He did all of this to him.

That is why Niles must surely hate him, and why Owain will never attempt to leave the castle walls again.

“I wasn’t going anywhere.” Owain murmurs.

“Good,” Niles says. “You shouldn’t. You’re not sneaky. You’ll get caught. Again.” Ah, see? He must hate him. He never says he hates Owain, though. In fact, Niles is still his dearest friend. They joke around with each other, spend time reading together. Owain likes stories about faraway kingdoms and dragons and saving the world. Niles likes stories of romances, but he disguises that by picking out tales with plenty of adventure in them, too. Owain can see through it.

 Owain can see through it because he likes the romance, too. He likes to listen to Niles read it. He likes to listen to the way his voice smooths over the words as he reads aloud. He likes to laugh when a book, as they sometimes do, contains a touch of _perverse content_. Niles reads it dramatically. The last time was unexpected, a book about two men and Owain was surprised to find it contained romance. He was even more surprised when Niles stood on top of the desk, held the book in one hand and with the other made gestures and faces to compliment the lewd reading.

As if Owain needs any more reason to fantasize about the faces Niles might _actually_ make. Niles most assuredly hates Owain but _Owain_ has deep feelings for Niles. He thinks he loves him. Of course, he’s not allowed. His wife will one day be chosen, for him. He won’t have a say in it.

“The roses that grow on those vines are yellow.” Owain looks at the vines once more. Yellow roses, he ironically recalls, are meant to symbolize freedom. Freedom is impossible. Owain can never have it.

“Mm, and?”

“Would you like one?”

Niles’s mouth turns into an outright frown. “I would _like_ you to stay away from those vines, Owain. What would I do with a flower, anyway? There are a hundred in the garden.”

“That one can be a promise.”

“A promise of what?” Niles asks. He is staring at Owain now, not the vine. Owain turns and looks right back at him. Right into his one, beautiful eye.

“I can’t ever leave, but when I finally become the Exalt… Well, _you_ can. Wouldn’t you like to be free?” Owain asks. Niles rolls his eye.

“I’ll be dead, idiot.” 

Owain frowns too, and he waits for an explanation. “Dead?”

“Have you ever heard of an Exalt with a whipping boy? None of them have them. All there is is a long line of Exalts who are quiet and sad.”

“But,” 

“What do you think it will take to break you, Owain? You’re the brightest, weirdest man I know. They know what makes you hurt. Every time they hurt me, you bruise a little more but you don’t break. Once they kill me, they’ll expect you to break. Then they’ll set your broken pieces into the mold they want you to fill, and let you heal into the Exalt they want you to be.”

“ _Niles!_ ” Owain doesn’t want to hear it. That can’t really be what the plan is, can it? Is that the way they’ve manipulated every Exalt?

He bites his lip and looks down. His hands are shaking and so he balls them up into fists and sets them in his lap where Niles won’t see. “If you’re so sure of this… why do you stay?” 

Niles closes his eyes and clicks his tongue. “Where do I have to run?” He asks. He pushes himself away from Owain’s desk. “Nice time for a stroll through the garden. The sky looks clear… I think I’ll do some stargazing.” 

Owain hardly cares. He watches Niles go. How can he be so calm, if he thinks he’s going to die? Owain is of age to ascend the throne. That could happen any time at all. Owain _loves him_. He can’t even imagine Niles dying. Not when he still has so many more stories to listen to him read. There’s a whole world of books out there, just waiting.

 He glances out the window once more. Niles is walking through the garden. He’s pulled a blue cape around his shoulders to keep away the chill. Owain looks at the yellow roses again.

 

…

 

The petals are thin but strong. Rose petals, that is. They’re sunshine yellow and a little lighter on the tips.

Owain has never climbed this high, before. There are a hundred ways he imagined escaping, but _climbing the wall_ was never among them. It’s pointless. The other side is a drop, he would need to have a rope to climb down. If he took a rope someone would find out.

He’s not here to climb to freedom. He’s only here today so he can pluck some of the roses for Niles. He spent a few days thinking it over… and Niles can’t die. Owain won’t let him. He’s going to find a way to get Niles his freedom.

Starting with a rose to signify that promise. He plucks one and pushes it carefully into the pocket of his pants. Just as he’s about to pluck another one... that’s when he hears a voice.

 

…

 

Owain yanks hard at his arms but the guards holding on to them won’t let him go. They’re not hurting him, only restraining him. They are forcing him to stand here, but Owain doesn’t want to see it. He’s seen it enough times in his life. This isn’t fair. The first crack of the whip makes Niles grunt. He squeezes his eye shut tight and screws his mouth into a twisted up frown.

“Hey!” Owain shouts at the bishop. “ _Stop!_ I didn’t do—I wasn’t trying to leave the castle!” He means to plead more but the next time the whip bites into Niles’s skin he doesn’t just grunt, he yelps. He’s in pain, a lot of pain. This whip isn’t fair. This punishment isn’t fair.

 _“Stop!_ ” Owain screams again. He pulls harder on his arms and tries to run forward. He doesn’t want this. He would take this punishment a hundred times over on his own. Niles opens his eye, briefly. He looks at Owain. Owain’s heart stops.

 _We talked about this_. It’s what he sees in that stare. They’ve discussed this, Owain said he wouldn’t run away. He _wasn’t running away_. “Niles,” He says. 

Niles screams again and Owain turns his head to look away. This torture goes on a while longer, until droplets of blood speckle the air with each crack and until Niles’s knees give out and he drops. His hands are bound and so he can’t catch himself. He falls on his face, on the floor.

His back is a marred mess.  The bishop leaves. Only after that do the guards let Owain go. Does he worry Owain will come after him? Absolutely not. He can think of nothing more than running forward to Niles, instead.

 

…

 

They’re not allowed to use healing magic on the lashings. It’s part of Niles’s punishment. Even so, Owain takes him to the kitchen. The maids and staff clear out, they know exactly what their prince is doing. Owain lays Niles on the cold, marble table and then, while he lies on his stomach, Owain gets cold water and tea towels.

Owain doesn’t think he cries all that often, but he’s crying today. He listens to Niles hiss when Owain begins to clean away the blood with the tea towels. “Gods,” He grunts. His fingers curl like he’s trying to grab for the table, but he has nothing to hold on to. “I like things rough, but that’s a touch _tender_.”

No doubt! His skin is broken and bloody and pink… It’s less scary when he clears away the blood, but it’s still… awful. It’s a reminder of every time he has made a mistake. There are a hundred scars all over Niles’s back. A hundred times he was hurt for something Owain did. Owain lays the chilled towel over Niles’s back to try and cool the inflamed skin. Owain scrubs at his tears with his sleeve. Niles sighs and turns his head to look at him. His cheek is squished on the marble table. His eye is wet. He’s holding back tears. Owain lets out a tiny sob.

“Mm, what are _you_ crying for?” Niles asks. Owain doesn’t answer. Niles’s voice sounds playful but also distinctly weak. He’s exhausted. He’s broken.

“I wasn’t running away,” Owain says.

Niles closes his eye. “I know. I saw you up there picking fl—ah— _owers_.”

“And you let them do this to you anyway.” Owain lifts his hands to wipe at his eyes. “Why? You could have run, or hidden.”

“What do you think they’d have done if I had?” Niles asks. Owain isn’t sure. Maybe punished him instead. If they did he would have deserved it. Well… not _this time_. This time he was innocent. Niles is always innocent, though. He’s never done anything to deserve these lashings. It’s always Owain’s fault.  “You know, you looked good up there.”

“W-What?” Owain is midway through changing the tea towel to a cooler one when Niles says that. He hesitates, but only briefly. He’s mixed a set of herbs into the water… herbs he hopes will help ease the pain. Niles hasn’t had any infections from these lashings before. Owain hopes to keep that tradition going.

“You were like a different man. The sun was on your face, the wind in your hair…. The way you were smiling up there? It’s no wonder they thought you were going to jump to freedom. You looked happy.” 

“I _wasn’t_ leaving.” Owain peels back the tea towel once more and looks over Niles’s wounds more thoroughly. Most of them have stopped bleeding, but they’re raw. One of them is deeper than the others, and it makes Owain wince. Niles is strong but he doesn’t think he’ll recover from this overnight. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“Just doing my job.” Niles’s voice comes out half-muted because his cheek is so squished into the table. His eye is closed and he’s quiet. He’s exhausted, is what he is. Owain can tell, but he can’t let him fall asleep here. He needs to get him into bed.

'Just doing my job.' Even while Owain is fumbling to get Niles’s arm wrapped around his shoulder and to get him on his feet those words are eating away at his brain. It isn’t his job. Niles doesn’t deserve to be whipped in Owain’s place. He doesn’t deserve to die, he doesn’t even deserve to think he _might_ die.

By the time he gets Niles situated in bed he’s practically fainted on his feet. He collapses onto his belly on top of his sheets and his back is left exposed to the air. Owain wipes it down one more time and, since he’s fainted anyway, puts a bit of pressure on the wound that hasn’t stopped bleeding yet. Eventually, it stops. Owain looks at Niles’s face. He looks like he’s in pain. When he was awake he could cover it up, but now his face is twisted in a wince and he’s sleeping uncomfortably. His forehead is hot with fever from his body trying to fight off his injuries.

Owain can never leave Castle Ylisstol. He is meant to be trapped here until he becomes the Exalt. Niles… he can leave. He _should_ leave. Maybe he’ll survive if he does? Owain pulls the somewhat crumpled rose from his pocket and leaves it on Niles’s bedside table before he leaves for the night.

 

…

 

“and so I wait,

speak not to thee

for who am I to love the sea.”

 Niles is still recovering. It has been two days and he is much more lively than he was before. He has never been one for staying in one place for too long, and it didn’t take long for him to get bored of his own bed. He’s sitting on the side of Owain’s desk, again. He does it all the time anyway, but at least this way his back isn’t pressed into a chair. It’s probably still sore.

 “you are a man of greater things

your role in life is set in stone

tis not my place; we are alone.” 

The poem he’s reading is right out of a book, spread open on one of his palms. His other hand is holding up his weight, on the desk. Niles doesn’t usually read poetry aloud. Usually, they read tales of adventure (and sometimes romance). This poem, in particular, is troubling Owain.

“but for his arms cannot be

around someone the likes of me

cast me aside, I know my worth:

I am no match to love the sea.”

 “Niles.” Owain interrupts. Niles’s eye flickers away from the page and to Owain. He looks him up and down, and his lips stay parted like he’s trying to decide if something is wrong with him.

“Yes..?” He prompts Owain to finish his thought. Owain reaches out for the book balanced on Niles’s hand and he takes it from him. Gingerly, for all books are something to be cherished. The tales and words are stories passed down from people who once were, perhaps, heroes. Owain marks the page with a ribbon meant for just that.

Niles closes his mouth. Owain sighs. “Why haven’t you run away?”

Niles glances over his shoulder at the door. It is closed tight, and Owain realizes that his frown is even tighter. Why does it seem like such a strange question? It makes perfect sense to run. “I know it sounds crazy, but I’ve grown to like your little quirks. You’re not so scary that I have to run away.”

“I know you can get out,” Owain says. Niles’s brows come together in a frown. “You know a way. You’ve lived in this castle with me for twenty years. There’s got to be a way. If you _really_ think you’re going to be killed, why do you stay?”

“Well,” Niles does not confirm or deny knowing of an exit. It doesn’t matter. Owain knows for certain that Niles knows of a way out of the castle. Hell, he may have built a tunnel himself. “If I leave, what will happen to you next time you break a rule?”

“I’ll just have to accept my own punishment,” Owain mutters. “I should have been doing that all along.” 

“Big words.” Niles hums. Silence hangs between them for a handful of seconds. Eventually, Niles clears his throat. “I owe you my life, Owain.”

“You… You what?” Owain asks. Surely not. He never did anything to earn that sort of gratitude. “No, you don’t.”

“I would have died a starving, homeless child. You’re the reason I was taken into the castle, you know. Who’s to say I want to leave?” 

“It’s my fault you’re here but I can help you get out,” Owain sounds like he’s pleading. It’s uncomfortable. He stands up and leans his hands on the desk until he has effectively invaded Niles’s personal space. “If I have to stay here forever I’ll do it without seeing you die. If you _really_ think you owe me your life then I’m asking you to save it. I’m not even the one who chose you, I didn’t save you at all. It’s not worth it to go through all this.”

Niles’s eye looks a bit wider than usual. Probably because his cool demeanor is broken up by Owain’s outburst. “You don’t know what I think is worth it,” He says. He frowns. “Two days ago I saw you up on that wall with that smile and that dreamy look in your eyes. Maybe that makes this worth it.”

It’s Owain’s turn to be surprised by Niles’s honesty. And, perhaps, to be surprised by his own confidence when he leans in closer. His eyes lid partway, but they’re open _just enough_ that Owain can see Niles tilt his head to one side and lean in, too. Their lips meet in a kiss that should have happened years ago, no doubt, but before this Owain thought he had forever to summon the confidence to kiss his best friend. He didn’t think there was any chance of losing him. Now he’s certain, there’s a good chance he’s going to lose him no matter what. He just wants to make sure he loses him in such a way that Niles _lives._  

Niles’s tongue is warm and unexpected on his lips and Owain nervously backs out of the kiss a half second before Niles reaches out and catches him by his vest to pull him back in. Owain opens up after that, and he’s never really been kissed before ever but he’s sure this is the stuff romances are written about.

Then Owain pulls away for sure this time. He leans back and Niles chases his lips but eventually gives up. “Owain,” He breaths out cautiously.

“I’m in love with you,” Owain whispers. He was in love with him ten minutes ago, too, but it feels swollen and heavy and urgent now that he’s kissed him. “So you have to leave, as soon as you recover, because I never want to see you get hurt because of me again.”

 “I don’t think so,” Niles says. “I’m not leaving here without you. I told you, I owe you my life.”

 “We’ll you’re not _staying_ here!” Owain is exasperated but he hopes he sounds more like he is angry than like he wants to cry. He doesn’t want to see Niles die. If they think that would break him as a man, they’re right. That would destroy him.

 Niles nods his head and reaches for a different book from Owain’s desk. It’s a book they’ve read together several times. Owain’s favorite, actually. About a hero who makes an unexpected friend in a thief, and they travel the world together chasing mysteries and treasures and dreams. He opens it to the first page like he’s going to begin it again. Owain loves when Niles reads to him, and especially this book… but is he going to let the conversation drop so abruptly?

But he doesn’t. He looks back at Owain and he smiles. “If you’re so in love with me, would you consider leaving with me?” 

“With you?” 

“With little old me.” Niles nods. From seemingly nowhere he pulls the half-wilted yellow rose Owain plucked for him days before and tucks it into Owain’s vest pocket. “Mutually beneficial, don’t you think?”

“Yes!” Of course it is! How did Owain fail to think of that? Together they can escape. They can make their own adventure. They can make their own love story the stuff legends are made of, laced with stardust and a touch of magic here or there.

Owain’s smile pulls at his cheeks and turns into a wide grin. Niles looks at him, and then at the rose. He smiles, too, and Owain is sure he can see him visibly relax. “In that case, I think I might love you, too.”


	5. Birthday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally the last one ahh
> 
> chapter tags: excessive cute, that's all,

“Today is the fated day of your birth!” Odin lights up when he sees Niles. He’s here! Odin has butterflies in his stomach because Niles is handsome as ever. Niles listens to him, but instead of smiling he looks at Odin with a raised brow.

 

“Is it?” He asks. He brushes past Odin. Their shoulders touch and some of the butterflies Odin was feeling slow to a stop. Instead, a little bit of a sinking feeling takes their places. “I hadn’t realized. Ah, well. There’s work to be done.”

 

Well, yes, there is. Their duties for their liege won’t change, though Odin… is uncomfortable suddenly. Before he was full of excitement but Niles is reserved. He trails behind Niles like a kicked puppy while he considers how to turn this around. “I’ve got a gift, for you.”

 

“Mm, is that so? I appreciate the thought, luv, but I have no interest in trinkets today.” Niles says. He looks over his shoulder just in time to see Odin’s optimism turn into dismay. Niles tends to find pleasure in making people unhappy, but he hesitates to reach out for Odin’s hand. He pulls it to his lips and kisses Odin’s knuckles. “That you’re at my side is gift enough.”

 

Yes, Odin is sure it is. Still, Odin put a lot of thought into this gift… He sighs and lets Niles lead him to fetch Lord Leo’s breakfast.

 

…

 

That afternoon while Leo works in his study Odin and Niles have a bit of downtime. They’re outside of his door, waiting patiently should he need them for anything. Odin is leaning somewhat against the wall to one side of the door. Niles has his arms cross and stands off to one side.

 

“I think you might like the gift I have in mind for you…” Odin begins, but he fails to say anything else. He’s too focused on the way Niles glances at him and rolls his eye. The weight in his stomach gets a little heavier.

 

“I don’t celebrate my birthday, Odin. I don’t want any gifts. Try not to take it personally. I’ve never been one to care about it.”

 

“But…” Odin starts. Niles frowns at him and he huffs.

 

 _But this is special_. Odin closes his mouth and casts his eyes down to the floor. When he looks up again it’s because he can hear the clicking of Niles’s boots on the floor while he walks closer to him, close until he has Odin pushed into the wall and he can lean in to kiss at his jaw.

 

For a few minutes, it is easy to forget how bothered he is by Niles’s reservations. For a few minutes, it is easy to relax against that wall and be kissed until he is breathless, and Lord Leo shouts at them to keep it down through the wall.

 

…

 

Odin is nervous, more so than usual, while he stands outside of Niles’s door. He knocks twice, and it’s a shaky knock, but the door opens quickly enough. Niles must know what his footsteps sound like… because he always opens the door quickly for Odin, when there are many locks to undo.

 

He’s missing his shirt and his shoes and Odin thinks he must have been preparing for bed. “Er, I’ve interrupted?”

 

“Think nothing of it,” Niles says. He steps aside for Odin to enter, and he locks the door behind him when he does. Odin is at peace in this room. He’s here often, he spends nights in here nearly more often than in his own room, lately. Sometimes simply just to sleep close enough that he can hear Niles breathe. “Something wrong?”

 

“Yes. That is… Niles, why won’t you accept gifts on your birthday?”

 

Niles groans quietly. “This again? I thought we were done with this, before?”

 

“I know, but…”

 

Niles sits down on the bed, and he reaches out his hand to pull Odin into his lap. Odin obliges easily, comes to straddle him but his mind is too distracted to be wooed. He stares at Niles until Niles breaks, and he sighs hard enough Odin can feel it against his chest. “I’ve never bothered to celebrate it. I don’t need gifts, I would rather just ignore it. No one has ever been quite as persistent as you about the subject.”

 

“I see,” Odin says. He puts his hands on Niles’s arms. “I… still want you to have the gift, though…”

 

Niles opens his mouth like he’s going to say no and Odin braces himself to the worst, but to his pleasant surprise, Niles sighs in defeat. “Alright, luv. I’ll accept your gift.”

 

And Odin lights up. He’s happy. He’s not sure how Niles will feel about the gift, to be fair, but he’s happy that he’s willing to at least _open it_. It’s small. A tiny pouch that he pulls from his back pocket. Niles glances at it, and then back at Odin.

 

“Did you have this with you all day?” He asks while he plucks at the ties on the pouch. He turns it over to dump the contents into his hand. “Oh,” He blurts. His cheeks look dark, is he blushing? Odin watches carefully to see what he might be thinking. Is he happy? Mad? Uncomfortable? Excited? “I suppose this explains your persistence…”

 

Odin blushes from his spot. Still in Niles’s lap. He nods his head. “I hadn’t thought I would have to beg you to accept it quite so much…” He watches Niles turn it over in his hand once or twice.

 

He licks his lips. His mouth feels dry. “You never had a family to celebrate with you… but before my mother died she loved parties. She loved birthdays, and she said that celebrating the people we love is one of the ways we remind them how much we care.”

 

Niles slides the band past the first joint of his finger, and then the second, but he twists it like he’s nervous. It fits around his finger, at least.

 

“I would be honored to be a part of your family. Niles the Stargazer and Odin Dark: together, forever.”

 

Niles lets go of the ring, leaves it there on his finger. It’s a light, nearly white silver. It’s a contrast to his skin, and no doubt an unfamiliar weight. Odin looks at it, wonders what he thinks of it. Does he like it? It isn’t all that special, Odin worried that a very fancy design might interfere with the way he draws his weapon.

 

He reaches up and slides his palm along Odin’s cheek. Odin closes his eyes and leans into his hand. The metal is cool and new, but he likes it. He can get used to that token, there. The next thing he knows he’s being kissed. First soft, and then a little harder, until Niles pulls him back onto the bed. Odin forgets to ask him if he accepts his proposal, but that day, and every day after, Niles wears his birthday gift.

 

Unsurprisingly, Odin receives a similar gift for his own birthday a few months, later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who participated in Zerodin week! It did so well! I'm so excited for all the content it got and I'm SO happy to see Niles getting so much love on his birthday! <3


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